


By The Transitive Property

by leveragehunters (Monkeygreen)



Series: Chase This Light [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Asexual Clint Barton, Dragon Bucky Barnes, Fluff, Healer Steve Rogers, Incubus Clint Barton, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, Protective Bucky Barnes, Skinny Steve, Swearing, Tiny bit of Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-28 10:31:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10092944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monkeygreen/pseuds/leveragehunters
Summary: Bucky hadn't known what was happening when he'd hurt Clint; he'd thought he was protecting Steve. He hadn't known Clint was an incubus who didn't like sex, hadn't known that Steve fed him regularly, Clint careful not to seduce, not to enthrall, to keep Clint healthy. He hadn't known because Steve hadn't told him, but still--he needed to apologise to Clint, to make things right.Clint, it turned out, was expecting him.(Takes place between the final chapter and the epilogue ofChase This Light. It won't make much sense as a stand-alone.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> For everyone asking what Pierce was, [this post on my Tumblr will answer your question](https://leveragehunters.tumblr.com/post/157334785748/chase-this-light-randomness), along with a bunch of questions no one asked!

If Bucky had taken the time to think about it, he'd have gone home and changed first. But he didn't, so he hadn't, and when he knocked on the door of Clint's apartment he was in full working gear: all black, mostly leather, sword on one hip, knife on the other. He wasn't thinking about the impression he might make. All he was thinking about was that he needed to make things right with Clint. However reasonable it'd seemed at the time, he'd hurt him when there'd been no need. When Clint had done nothing wrong. He was a demon, an incubus, but he hadn't been hurting Steve.

For all that Bucky hadn't know that at the time, it had been eating at him. An apology was owed.

He knocked again, heard Clint call, "Yeah, give me a minute," followed by the sound of what Bucky would be prepared to swear was someone tripping over something, and then the door was pulled open. The smile on Clint's face faded when he saw Bucky, leaving blankness in its wake. "Oh," Clint said, looking him up and down, and he swallowed hard.

Bucky offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Hi. I hope it's okay I just came by. I didn't have your number." Which he was now realising he should have asked Steve for, so he could have called first and not surprised Clint, because Clint was watching him like he half-expected Bucky to bite. Which was justified. Bucky had strangled him and put him into a wall. Internally, he winced. "I can come back if this is a bad time."

"No," Clint finally said. "No, may as well get it over with." Clint stepped back, waving Bucky into the apartment, and closed the door behind him. Bucky stood in the middle of the living room, looking around as Clint moved past him to the kitchen. "Want something to drink?"

"Sure." Last time, he'd assessed Clint's apartment with a view to any way it might present a threat to Steve. Now he was simply looking and it was...depressing. Smallish, darkish, the furniture ragged and fourth-hand at best, the entire place exuded an air of sadness.

"Here." Clint was holding out a can of beer at arm's length. Bucky plucked it from his fingers, careful not to touch since Clint seemed to be doing everything he could to stay as far away from him as possible. It earned him a sardonic look. "I'm surprised it took you this long to show up," Clint said as he sat on the couch.

Bucky popped open the beer to cover another wince. Steve had already talked to Clint—Bucky had walked in on the tail end of their conversation, the phone tucked against Steve's ear, and walked right out again, not wanting to intrude. He knew part of that talk had been Steve apologising for what Bucky had done, but _Bucky_ was still the one who'd put his hands on Clint. After the call Steve had told him, "I didn't say anything about you wanting to apologise. Thought I'd leave it up to you what you wanted to do," because, Bucky knew, Steve blamed _himself_ for what had happened. But Clint wasn't stupid; two people had screwed up that day and only Steve had tried to make it right.

He took a sip and had to hide another wince, because the beer wasn't quite warm, but it wasn't exactly chilled. Bucky added _crappy fridge_ to the list of things wrong with Clint's apartment. "I've been busy," he offered, knowing it was lame.

"So I've heard." Clint eyed him. "And you're really a dragon?"

Bucky sighed. "Where did you hear that?" While he'd made the call to stop actively hiding it, he'd hoped it wasn't going to become common knowledge.

"Around," Clint said vaguely, waving a hand. At Bucky's pained expression, he seemed to take pity on him. "Steve told me. He was filling me in on the disappearing healers. I was worried about him, so he told me what happened. Everything that happened, and that included you."

"Yes, I'm really a dragon." Steve could tell whoever he thought needed to know; if he'd decided that included Clint, Bucky wasn't going to question it.

"And you're in love with Steve." There was a weight to Clint's words that made Bucky wonder if he was about to get a version of the _hurt him and I'll kill you_ talk.

"We're in love with each other, but yes." Saying it out loud brought a rush of joy he could barely contain, but he made the effort, kept the desire to grin stupidly under wraps.

A pained smile flitted across Clint's face. "That's why I was expecting you to show up sooner." Unsure what Clint was getting at, Bucky took another sip of the warmish beer, _didn't_ make a face, then set the can on the wobbly coffee table. Even for politeness' sake he wasn't going to drink any more. "I figured it was inevitable after Steve told me you were together, after he told me what you were." He fixed Bucky with a serious look. "You saved Steve. He thinks he's twenty feet tall and magic-proof, that he can take on the whole world with guts alone, but we both know he can't."

Bucky slowly nodded, not certain where Clint was going with this.

"He saved me when he had no reason to, no reason to keep trying, and I love him, I mean, not like you do," he added quickly, raising his hands as if to ward off a potential blow. "He's my friend, that's all. I'm gonna miss this place, and I'm gonna miss him, and I don't know how I'm gonna make it without him, but no matter what, thank you for protecting him, for saving him." Clint took a deep breath. "Okay, I said what I needed to say. I'm ready."

Brow furrowed, Bucky stared down at him as the silence ticked past.

"Could you get it over with?" 

"Get what over with?" Bucky asked.

"What you came here to do."

Bucky stared some more.

"Dragging it out makes you a bit of an asshole."

There was something in Clint's eyes, in the way he was sitting—it reminded Bucky of how Clint had looked, staring up at him from the floor after Steve had healed him, had repaired the damage Bucky had done to him. There was more defiance now, more _I dare you_ , but he could see the same sadness. "Can I sit?" he asked, keeping his voice gentle.

"It's not like I can stop you. You're a fucking _dragon_."

It was true. An incubus was no match for a dragon, especially not a well-armed, Natasha-trained dragon, but that just made him feel worse about effectively looming over Clint when he had no idea what was going on. "Please?"

"Fine, sit."

When Bucky sat on the couch next to Clint, rearranging his sword so it wouldn't jab his leg, Clint shifted away, putting space between them. "I think we might be working at cross-purposes," Bucky said carefully. "Why do you think I'm here?"

"Wow, you _are_ an asshole, huh? I'm honestly surprised. I never thought Steve would go for an asshole. Of course, maybe you're just really good at hiding it around him. He's going to figure it out eventually, though. Wish I was going to be around to see that."

"Clint." Bucky couldn't remember the last time he'd been this confused. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I came here to apologise."

Clint's eyes went wide. "What?"

"I'm sorry. For hurting you. For trying to strangle you. For smashing you into the wall." Laid out like that it sounded brutal, but it had been brutal. Bucky wasn't going to hide from it. "I thought you were hurting Steve, but I was wrong. He explained it to me. And you should know, he explained everything: how you met, what he does for you, _why_ he does it. I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm not going to do it again, if that's what you're worried about."

"Wait." Clint held up a hand. "Just wait."

Bucky sat patiently while Clint stared at him, eyes shifting to strange slit pupils. He was willing to give Clint as much time as he needed. He didn't know what was going through Clint's head, but it couldn't be good if he was rattled enough to be showing even part of his true form.

"You're a dragon." Bucky nodded. "You're with Steve." Bucky nodded again and, try as he might, he couldn't stop the tiny, happy, possessive curl of his lips. "Steve who feeds me." Again, Bucky nodded, but Clint pressed the point, saying, deliberately provocative, "An incubus, I'm an _incubus_ , and I put my hands on Steve, I send my power into him, I _feed_ on him, and you're _not_ here to tell me to get out of town, to stay away from him, that if I ever go near him again, ever feed from him again, you'll make sure I regret it."

" _What_?" It came out on a rumble, smoke curling out of Bucky's nose as he half rose to his feet, and Clint flinched. Bucky felt dragon instincts stirring, protective and strong, every one of them pointing at Clint. He settled back on the couch, tried to make himself look as non-threatening as possible, briefly wishing he wasn't armed. "No. You thought? No. Clint, no. Apart from anything else: this is _Steve_ we're talking about. What do you think he'd do to me if I tried to pull something like that?"

"If he ever found out."

"It's Steve. He'd find out. But even if he'd never know," Bucky shook his head, "I wouldn't do that."

"Why not?" Clint demanded, sounding more confused than angry.

"Why _would_ I?"

"Because I'm an incubus and even my _own kind_ think I'm an abomination? You don't even know me."

It ripped the breath out of Bucky's lungs, protective instincts flaring into bright life, and he found himself reaching out with his right hand to wrap his fingers around Clint's arm. Gently, but they made a cage of strength. Clint's eyes dropped to them, his arm tense under Bucky's hand, then lifted to meet Bucky's and he raised both eyebrows. "Dragon," Bucky muttered in response, and didn't, couldn't, let go.

"Dragon." It was flat, but a question echoed through the word.

"We get...protective sometimes. Just give me a minute." He looked away, avoided Clint's gaze.

"Once again, _you don't even know me_."

"I know Steve. Steve's mine. You're Steve's. I hurt you and you thought I was here to hurt you again, to drive you away from somewhere you're safe, and you're _not_ _an abomination_." He rumbled again, smoke curling into the air, and risked a look at Clint, found him staring in confusion, gaze following the smoke, but he wasn't trying to pull away.  

"Steve's yours."

"Yeah." It came out soft, a breath of a word.

"And I'm Steve's?"

"Yes, sort of."

"And that means I'm yours?" Clint asked cautiously, expression wary.

"I don't know." Bucky huffed in frustration, trying to pick his way through instincts he'd never have expected to rise for a demon, and said, "No, not really. Just, you're not an abomination. There's nothing wrong with you." More smoke curled out of his nose and he breathed deep, fingers flexing. "I know what Steve does for you. I know how bad off you were when he found you. I'm not going to drive you away. Not from Steve, not from here, not out of the city. You're safe."

Silence fell between them and Clint's arm relaxed under his hand; his wariness faded, replaced by curiosity. "Does Steve know you go around saying he's yours?"

"He does."

"And he's all right with that?"

"He is." It sent a surge of warmth through Bucky, curling around his heart like wings, flowing through the protective anger Clint's words had summoned, soothing it.

"Huh."

His dragon gradually settled and he let go of Clint, pulled his hand away. "Sorry."

"No, that was...enlightening." There was more than a hint of amusement in Clint's voice and Bucky sagged in relief; it was the best possible reaction to being faced with a suddenly overprotective dragon. "I'm starting to understand what Steve sees in you."

"Shut up," Bucky grumbled, taking a chance as he poked at the threadbare couch cushion with one finger.

"Oh, nice way to talk to someone you came here to apologise to."

"I already did that."

"You did." Clint tapped his fingers on his knee. "And I'm not going to say it didn't hurt or that you weren't scary as fuck, but you know you didn't do anything wrong. Not really. Right? You didn't know what was going on."

"Steve and I had that talk, but you still got hurt when you shouldn't have. I hurt you when you shouldn't have been hurt. And I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"Then you're forgiven."

"Thanks." 

They exchanged quick nods and Clint said, "So just to make absolutely sure we're both on the same page: you have no problem with Steve feeding me even though the two of you are together."

"No problem at all." It wasn't _completely_ true, there was a tiny part of him, pure dragon instinct, that didn't like it, but it didn't get a say in anything, and it was running smack up against newly awakened protectiveness where Clint was concerned. It was that protectiveness that made him say, "You know, dragons are powerful."

"And modest." It was said lightly, Clint glancing at him to gauge his reaction, and Bucky huffed at him, prompting a quick grin.

"Not what I meant. I _meant_ , I'm not sure you could enthrall me even if you were trying." Clint went still, grin fading. "I think a dragon might be stronger than an incubus' powers. In fact, I'm damn sure a dragon would be, especially if you were trying _not_ to seduce."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying if there was an emergency, if you needed food and Steve wasn't available." He glanced at Clint. "It might be awkward, but if you're careful, the way you are with Steve, if you fed on my dragon the way you feed on his gift, it should be _safe_. You wouldn't have to choose between starving and being something you're not."

All expression dropped off Clint's face. "You can't be serious," he said, voice flat.

"Why not?"

"No one just offers something like that."

"Steve did."

"Steve...He's _Steve_. Normal rules don't apply."

He smiled softly, because that was one of the truest things he'd ever heard. "Maybe I've been spending too much time with him," he said, meeting Clint's eyes. "It's just something to think about." 

Clint rubbed a hand over his face and sat back, looking a little shaken. "Okay, I definitely see what Steve sees in you."

Bucky grinned slyly. "Not _everything_ he sees in me."

It startled Clint into laughter. "Hey, some things I am _not_ interested in."

Pleased, since making Clint laugh was what he'd been aiming for, Bucky smiled. Glancing around the apartment, he asked, "Would you really have missed this place?"

"Honestly?"

Bucky nodded.

"No, it's kind of a shithole."

"Thought about moving somewhere else?"

"Sometimes," he shrugged, "but it's easier to stay where I am."

Bucky studied him. "I'm moving in with Steve, _have_ moved in with him, just haven't officially given my place up yet. My apartment's a studio, but it's nice and I'm not going to need most of the furniture. Rent's reasonable, landlord's easy going, and he'd let me sign the lease over to you, no problem." He kept his voice carefully neutral as he added, "Might be nice to live somewhere that's not a shithole?"

"You're living together? Already? Isn't that a bit fast?"

"Maybe it would be for anyone else." Bucky was filled with blissful peace as he said, "For us it's right."

"Okay. But I thought dragons were," he waved a hand, "you know, _clingy_ about their homes."

"They are." Bucky knew his face was doing the ridiculous, dopey thing it did whenever he thought about _Steve_ and _home_. "But I've got a new home."

"I'm not going to ask. You look like an idiot, though. In case you were wondering."  

"I wasn't."

"In case you were."

Bucky glared at him and Clint just grinned. "Do you want the apartment or not?" Bucky asked.

"You're serious?"

"I'm serious."

"Then, yes," Clint took a deep breath, sat up straighter, "I want the apartment."

 

* * *

 

 

Bucky and Steve were stretched out on the couch, Bucky covering Steve like a blanket and he was half-asleep. He'd been completely asleep—having crashed out after getting back from Clint's—when Steve had finally arrived home, had woken up to Steve snuggling next to him and stayed awake long enough to drape himself over Steve before drifting into a light doze.

"You can't go feed Clint in his shithole apartment anymore," Bucky mumbled sleepily into Steve's hair. He felt Steve go rigid beneath him and frowned, rubbing his nose against Steve's cheek. "What's wrong?"

Steve let out a long breath and relaxed. "I was about to yell at you."

Bucky propped himself up on one elbow so he could see Steve's face. "Why?" he asked, confused. "What did I do?"

"Nothing," Steve soothed, running his hands through Bucky's hair, and Bucky blinked slowly. "I was about to yell at you because I thought you were telling me what I couldn't do." Bucky replayed his words, winced, and opened his mouth to explain that hadn't been what he'd _meant_ , but Steve leaned up and kissed him before he could speak. "No, I know. You wouldn’t do that. I just had to catch up." Steve kissed him again, which Bucky, even half-asleep, returned enthusiastically. "What did you mean?"

"I meant he's not going to be living in his shithole apartment much longer."

"Okay..." Steve waited. "More information?"

"He's going to move into my old place."

"Bucky." Steve gently ran one finger down Bucky's face, tracing the line of his cheek, the edge of his jaw, then pressed it against his bottom lip. "Wake up, please."

Bucky blinked, blinked again, then sighed and forced himself to wake up. "Right. I'm here." He shifted, rearranged them so they were lying on their sides, and slung one leg over Steve, Steve smiling indulgently as Bucky manhandled him and wrapped him up tight. "I went to see Clint after that job today."

"To give him your apartment?"

"No, well, yes, eventually, but that wasn't why I went to see him. I went to apologise."

"You should probably know, I told him you were a dragon." Steve bit his lip, looking uncharacteristically uncertain, and Bucky swooped in and kissed it.

"I know, it came up, but it's yours to tell, Steve. I trust you with it. If you need to tell someone, tell them."

Slowly, Steve smiled. "You know I love you, right?"

"I know," Bucky said smugly and Steve flicked the end of his nose. Bucky caught his hand in his metal one and tucked it against his chest. "We had a bit of misunderstanding to start with, but we got it figured out." Steve lifted both eyebrows, asking without words, and Bucky sighed, settling Steve more comfortably against his chest, started stroking his back. "He thought I was there to chase him off. Specifically, to chase him away from you."

" _What?_ "

"That was my reaction. Like I said, we got it sorted out, but it wasn't fun."

"You okay?" Steve asked gently.

"I'm okay."

"Is Clint okay?"

"He's okay, too. I wouldn’t have left him if he wasn't."

Steve cradled his face, leaned in and kissed him gently. "I know you wouldn't."

"I apologised, we talked, I got a bit, uh, protective." Steve raised one eyebrow at him and Bucky huffed. "Clint's yours, so it's not that surprising."

"Mine, huh?" Steve grinned. "Does that mean you're suddenly going to start getting protective of Sam?"

Bucky narrowed his eyes—because no, just no—and Steve's grin got wider. "We're talking," Bucky said pointedly, "about Clint."

"Of course," Steve said innocently.

"Stop that."

"Sorry."

"You're not."

"Not really."

Bucky huffed again, smoke curling into the air, and Steve's grin softened into a warm smile as he ran his fingers through Bucky's hair, tucking it back behind his ear. "I’m glad you went to see Clint. He's my friend, I know he's a demon, but he's a good person, he really is, and he could use more people in his corner."

"I like him," Bucky said. "Once he stopped being worried about why I was there he was sarcastic as hell. But there's more. I also." He stopped, because he suddenly wasn't sure how Steve would react.

"Bucky?"

"I may have offered, if you weren't available and it was an emergency, to let him feed on me?" Steve's eyebrows shot up and his mouth dropped open. Bucky went on all in a rush, "Dragons are powerful, so if he's careful, like he is with you, there'd be no seducing, no enthralling, nothing he doesn't want. I mean, it'd be awkward, but it'd be safe for both of us, and in an emergency, if you're away or exhausted from healing, at least he knows there's someone else he can turn to." 

"Bucky."

He kept his eyes on Steve's chest, fingers curling against his spine.

"Look at me." He couldn’t disobey that voice, steel and mountains shivering through him, and he met Steve's eyes, not sure what he was going to find; they were brimming with warmth and love. "You really did that."

"It felt right."

"My dragon." Steve's words thrilled up Bucky's spine, exploded into his heart, and he melted against Steve. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Yeah?" Steve said, a tiny smile on his face.

"So much."

"Show me?"

With a grin, Bucky asked, "What did you have in mind?"

Steve kissed the tip of Bucky's nose, slipped free of his hold and stood up, then held out his hand. "Surprise me."

Bucky rolled to his feet, considered Steve, then ducked down, scooped him up, and tossed him over his shoulder. "Bucky!"

"Hmmmmm?"

"Put me down!"

"You said surprise you."

"This is _not_ what I had in mind." Steve twisted like an eel but Bucky held him in place, one arm over his waist, the other around his legs, and started moving towards the bedroom. "Are you going to put me down?" Steve asked, torn between outrage and laughter.

"Nope. Not yet."

"You'll pay for this!"

"Promise?" he asked, turning his head to plant a smacking kiss on the curve of Steve's ass.

Steve was laughing too hard to reply and Bucky grinned, only to let out an undignified squawk as Steve dragged up his shirt and blew a raspberry above his hip.

"Hey!" he protested. "All that bare skin and _that's_ what you go with?"

"Sorry, were you expecting to get _rewarded_? Not going to happen." Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky's waist and wriggled himself into a more comfortable position, fingers just skimming Bucky's stomach as he laughed and said, "At least not yet."


End file.
